


Practice

by Mad_Maudlin



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Blow Job, F/M, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-22
Updated: 2010-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Maudlin/pseuds/Mad_Maudlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron wants to impress Harry. Hermione has a suggestion or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice

They tumbled onto the mattress, arms and legs and squeaking springs. Hermione traced Ron's ribs through his shirt with her palms, gasped as he sucked her lower lip in. Harry wasn't going to be home for hours, and somehow special dinner plans had turned into this: this heat, this desire, this tension...

She squeaked when he pinched her nipples, not in a pleasant way. "Watch it,"

"Sorry," he muttered, kissing his way down her neck while he fought with her bra.

"Oh, give it here" she had it off in a moment "I think Harry needs to give you lessons. Underwear 101."

Ron stopped, and she saw his jaw tighten. "Sorry," he muttered, and lowered his mouth again, but with far less enthusiasm.

She tugged on his hair until he looked her in the eyes again. "What did I say?"

"Nothing."

"I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me."

She sighed. Boys and their communication issues. "What is it?"

"How do you know there is anything?"

_"Ronald."_

He heaved a brief sigh, then pulled himself up onto the bed next to her. He still would quite meet her eyes. "It's...sort of about Harry."

Hermione tensed. It had only been a few weeks since the three of them had officially become what she delicately termed a "supercouple;" specific negotiations were still ongoing. Harry and Ron would kiss and touch just fine, but somehow she always ended up in the middle of the bed anyway, like she could shield them from one another. She had given up everything to both of them, together and singly, but as far as she knew they still hadn't gone beyond a good snog, at least not without her between them. The tension was killing hersexual tension, she hoped, because there was no room for jealousy among them now, not like this.

So she grabbed Ron's hand and asked, "What about Harry?"

"It's complicated."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, then shrugged, then gnawed his lower lip a moment. And then he blurted out, "How did you"

She waited. "How did I what?"

"How did youy'know, learn? To...do stuff?"

God bless his inarticulate little heart. "Can you be more specific?"

He sighed explosively. "I don't even know what two blokes _do_ together. I mean I _do,_" he amended when he saw her expression, "but not...personally."

"I'm sure Harry would be open to experimentation," she said.

A blush worked its way up his neck as he muttered, "I don't wanna make a fool of myself."

So _there_ it was. Hermione giggled, even though she knew it probably wouldn't help. She kissed him on he forehead and nuzzled his face. "You want to impress him. That's sweet."

"Glad _you_ think so," he muttered.

She bit her lip. She didn't know much about gay sex either, and that was one topic on which she wasn't sure where to find a book. Then again... "Ron," she said solemnly, "I'm going to let you in on a little secret, but you have to swear not to divulge it to anyone else. Except maybe Harry."

"Okay," he said, sounding skeptical.

"Be right back." She darted out of the collective bedroom and down the hall to her own roomher office, essentially, though it did have a bed. She kicked open the trunk that contained her winter clothes, along with the other nonessential items she'd brought to the house, and quickly located her target. She shut the door again and held it up for Ron to see. "This, dear, is the single girl's best friend."

His eyes bugged out when he stared at it. "That's a _dildo."_

"Mmm-hmmm." Hermione crawled back onto the bed next to him and handed him the toy. "My aunt bought me this for my seventeenth birthday. She said no woman should ever be without something hard between her thighs when she needed it."

"Mad aunt." He gingerly inspected it, tracing one finger over the molded head and down to the base. "You actually used this?"

"Occasionally. Obviously I haven't needed it since I moved in with you two." She found her wand and tapped the base, just for show; it started to vibrate, and Ron dropped it as if it were posessed. She giggled again and shut it off.

"So," Ron asked, hesitantly touching the smooth black plastic, "what exactly does this have to do with me and Harry?"

"You asked me how I learned to 'do stuff,'" she reminded him. "This is how I learned to give head."

His eyes bugged out again. "You taught yourself to...with this?"

"More or less." She decided there were some things he didn't need to know about that aunt of hers. Or her mother. Or, especially, his. "I practiced on it, sometimes. It's enjoyable when you can imagine it's something you really like."

Ron's eyebrows rose at this, and she had a feeling she had just given him a month's worth of wanking fantasies. "So I should suck on this and pretend it's Harry?"

Now there was an image she could enjoy, for a month at _least_. "More or less."

He picked it up again and considered the idea. "I s'pose it'd work..."

Another thought struck her, and she placed her hand gently but deliberately on his thigh. "Of course, I could also give you an object lesson..."

"Oh..."

He shimmied out of his trousers and pants, and she pushed them off to the edge of the bed. His cock didn't need much encouragement to rise all the way, and she positioned herself carefully between his spread legs. "Just try to do what I do," she whispered, then wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and carefully licked the head.

He picked up the dildo and looked at it dubiously. "Is this clean?"

"I do believe you've just violated the cardinal rule of fellatory ettiquette."

Ron flushed, but snickered, too. And then, with a deep breath, he positioned the toy in his fist and hesitantly licked the tip.

Hermione set about the things she knew both boys liked, working over the head with her lips and tongue before taking that much into her mouth entirely. He mimicked every move, even as he gasped and grunted in his own pleasure. She squeezed and pumped the shaft of his cock as she sucked on the head, before slowlying starting to work into a rhythm that match the little involuntary thrusts of his hips.

She heard Ron start to groan above her, muffled; she raised her eyes and couldn't help but groan herself. He was watching her, intently, his brow furrowed in concentration, as he moved the dildo in and out between his red, slick lips. She paused in her rhythm to slide her tongue out, as far down his shaft as it would go, along the vein. His eyes slipped shut, and he copied the motion exactly.

_Oh, god,_ she thought, watching his cheeks hollow as she sucked hard, _just imagine him doing that to _Harry...

He popped the toy out of his mouth just in time to whimper some unintelligable, and came into Hermione's mouth. She spat it out immediately onto his boxers. After a few moments of catching his breath, he asked, "Does it taste that bad?"

"Well, no," she said. "But swallowing is unsanitary."

"Ahhh." He looked at the dildo which was still cradled in his hand and licked his swollen lips. "This was a pretty good idea."

"Yes, it was," she said, and peeled off her damp panties. "Now get that lovely mouth over here and practice on _me."  
_


End file.
